Loss Of Me
by Locked Heart Ami
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Spoilers up to and including Man of Science, Man of Faith. Alternate take on the first episode of the new season. What happened on the raft? What if the face in the hatch was familar?
1. Chapter 1

**Loss Of Me**

****

**Chapter 1**

_Who are the others?_

**FLASH**

'I just got tortured by a damn spinal surgeon and a gen-u-ine Iraqi. Course I'm serious.'

**FLASH**

'I never blamed a boar for my problems.'

**FLASH**

'We're not alone here and we all know it!'

**WHO ARE THE OTHERS?**

_Flash_

And awake with a jerk.

Shaking, shaking again. Every night was like this. Why? When the hell was he going to be able to get some damn sleep around here? Comfy bed- warm- nice place. Maybe a little musty, not really enough to bother anyone though.

What the hell was the matter with him?

No point tryin' to catch up on sleep now. The alarm clock was going off anyway. Scowling, he sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side. Time for another long day. Night. Whatever.

Morning routine- gestures mechanical after only how long? Strawberries, protein powder, cracking the egg, highest speed on the blender. Tasted like bullcrap- nearly gagged but took it all in one gulp anyway. Like a man. Would've been more tolerable if he wasn't having the same thing for lunch.

Stupid line of thought anyway. Thinking too much. Went into workout instead- tuned out after the first twenty-five crunches, only thoughts the dull ache in his abs and biceps that grew as he exhaled and lingered after he was done.

Last thing of course, definitely the most important, even despite the fact that it hadn't helped yet. 4 8 15 16 23 42 Multiple uses. He fitted the dose, shot it into his arm with teeth gritted in pain.

_'You have to take this every day. _Every_ day! This might _possibly_ give you the chance to regain the memories you've lost. Pretty much the only hope you've got.'_

Yeah, right. But he knew his cynicism was fake, frustration, because he still took it every morning, didn't he? He was still hopeful enough to try to remember every night when his head hit the pillow, still angry enough to tole "EYE M SICK" onto that pathetic wall in a burst of pseudoartistic passion. Soft scoffing noise under his breath. This record sucked.

'EXECUTE.' Much good might it do him. And turned the damn record off. Then, with a heavy sigh, he settled into a stuffed red-brown chair, feeling static, moody. He glared into the full-length mirror and Sawyer's rough and unshaven face glared back at him.

Quarantine was a bitch.

Sawyer thought the light system was kind of stupid.

'You can look up the hatch with this,' they had told him. 'See what's up there without moving from your room.'

What they had failed to explain to him was why the hell he would want to look up the hatch in the first place. It was a goddamned jungle out there, weren't it? So unless he felt like doing some handy-dandy nature watching (mostly leaves and the undersides of boars) or a little astronomy, he really didn't give a rat's ass whether he could see up the damn hatch or not.

So, yeah, he thought it was kind of stupid. Or he had until someone had hauled up the top off the hatch. Now? Yeah, he was panicking a little. And beginning to feel pretty grateful that he could see who it was. Not that it was going to help him much, he realized as he desperately flipped the switch that turned the light on. Being able to see whoever it was wasn't going to change the fact that they had ripped off the hatch, violated the quarantine space and were descending down toward him with an alarming speed. He checked the mirror again.

It was a chick. Ass-first. If he hadn't been on the verge of _seriously _freaking out, he might have enjoyed the view.

As it was, though, confusion and apprehension, plus the rapidly descending spelunkers, were leaving him in less a state of carnal titillation and more one of acute panic. Shit! How long did he have before she got here?

Long enough to get a damn MK-41.

Long enough to defend himself.

Grabbing the firearm from the weaponry he loaded it, noticing with a muttered curse that his hands were shaking.

'This rate,' he muttered, 'I'm gonna piss my damn pants!'

With a concentrated effort he forced his hands to stop- just as he heard two feet come down rather hard on the wet floor of the hatch.

Damn.

The apartment had gone quiet, very quiet, and Sawyer- hands shaking again- pressed into a dark corner in the space behind the door, listening to her soft footfalls as he gradually became convinced that his hammering heart really was going to burst right through his chest.

Approaching. Closer, closer, closer.

Close enough.

With a yell he jumped out from the alcove and she screamed in surprise, whirling from the mural that she had been examining and dropping her torch (it fizzled on the ground). Then she noticed the barrel of the MK-41 levelled at her pretty little head and the gal went silent so fast it was like he had cut a string.

Sawyer knew he looked intimidating- weapon with body cloaked in shadow- and it leant strength to his voice as he collected himself enough to growl, 'What the HELL are you doin'?'

She turned to stare blind at him and something in her dark eyes, something in her freckles-

**_I've never killed a man._**

Looks like you an me

Got somethin' in common.

**Her dark glare….**

Sawyer shook his head violently, dislodging the fractures images that threatened to overwhelm him. 'The hell do you want!' He exploded again, then realized she was already replying.

'…Get upset,' she said in a very steady voice that belied the fact that she was speaking into the barrel of a gun. 'Please. Just stay calm. It's my mistake. I didn't realize there was anyone in here. I'll go back up. Just- calm down.'

He took a deep breath. She was counting down from five under her breath, and he felt the same way.

'How bout them other two?' he challenged. 'They convinced the lights are on and nobody's home?'

She squinted her beady black eyes- he squeezed the handhold of the gun. 'I'm sorry. We'll go back. Your voice…' and her own tone grew soft, unsure. 'Your voice sounds familiar….'

'Ain't never been introduced to you, sugar,' he said roughly, and something utterly different from what he had expected lit up in her eyes.

'Come into the light,' she commanded, with a slight quaver.

'Not likely,' he scoffed, and ignored the instinctive urge to do exactly as she said. 'Ya think-'

'Come into the LIGHT,' she demanded, and the tremor was gone.

With a low growl he complied. Two could play at this damn game.

And her little brown eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and he felt the floor go out from underneath him as she breathed

"_Sawyer_!"

(((A/N: Everyone seemed to think- before we saw Desmond's face- that the guy in the hatch was, well, Sawyer. I'm just taking up that theory and running with it. This is alternate universe, but only in the sense that I'm playing with a different plot.

I appreciate reviews- I think it's a fair tradeoff, considering how long I work on these and how quickly people read them- and I'm especially open to and welcoming to constructive criticism. (Concrit may be reciprocated.)

Re-loaded to fix grammar mistakes and insert a title. Expect Loss Of Me Chapter 2 sometime today or tomorrow- I'll try to update with the episodes so you guys get your Lost literary fix. ;)

-Locked Heart Ami)))


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"How the HELL you know that name?" he demanded, jerking the gun back up into her startled face.

"What's going on here?"

"Who are you!"

"How did you get down here?"

"Answer the damn question!"  
"Don't you point that gun at me-" and she reached out, grabbed the barrel.

Acting with his panic and not with his head, he- in a fraction of a second- spun the gun around, raised it back behind his shoulders, brought it down.

She crumpled like an opera glove. He stared at his own handiwork, horrified, then dropped to his needs by her side. Fuck! He hadn't meant to really hurt her.

Thank god. A pulse. A breath. She was fine. He rolled her onto her back and just had time to move her away before someone was yelling down into the bunker "Kate! KATE!"

With a muttered curse he scrambled back into the corner. Round two: fight.

The other ones right on her tail, or so it seemed, and Sawyer could hear footsteps coming down, hitting ground, getting close. Just one, it sounded like. Sawyer listened to the breaths, holding his own. An old man.

What the hell was going on?

"Kate?"

**_FLASH._******_We need to acknowledge that we may be here for some time._

"Kate!" and the man- Sawyer saw now smaller and stocky, and old just as he suspected- darted to the woman's body mere metres away. "Kate!" He could hear the other guy too, rappelling down the hatch. If he was going to act it had to be now.

"Don't move." Low and lethal, training the gun on the old guy. Standing up, stepping forward- revealed, out of his shadows, no longer hidden. He felt the last vestiges of security slipping away. "You stand right there."

Didn't move- at all. Didn't seem alarmed- surprised- nothing. Not even a word of protest. Sawyer felt cold, suddenly. This wasn't right. Who the hell had the gun?

"Locke?" Round three had touched down. Shit.

Any rate Locke wasn't replying, eyes fixed on Sawyer, face drawn. Curtains real.

"Did you kill her?" Voice appallingly conversational. "Kate. Did you kill her? Sawyer?"

Explosion. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE!" Trigger finger nearly twitched. "How the HELL do you know my name? Is this some kind of goddamn joke?" Stationary gun aimed at Locke's stationary skull. "You a joker? Huh? This your idea of a fun time? Or-" he swung the MK-41 around to cover the other guy, who had just captured the hallway. "Or are YOU the man?"

Round three had a gun. Fuck. At least he looked alarmed, though his voice was steady when he spoke, trying so hard to hide it.

"Put the gun down. Sawyer. Please put the gun down." Bedside manner for the sick man. Sawyer's eyes narrowed.

"You know what? I don't think I will."

"Look." Very reasonable. "We both have guns. This is pointless. You put yours down, I'll drop mine."

Sawyer snorted with a derision he could not feel, that no one could feel that close to the end of the beginning of the end. "Cortez, you're betting a midget gun against my MK-41. Don't reckon I fancy your chances."

Pause. Change of tack. "Where'd you get the gun, Sawyer?"

"I stole it," he said sarcastically.

**_FLASH._******_(Took the badge, too.__ I thought it was cool.)_

"But-" he stammered, shaking his head, trying to clear it- "Looks like- it came in handy-"

_(Guess what? I just shot a bear!)_

"SHUT UP!"

-Could hardly hear himself in his own head- room tilting a little, hands shaking again- closing his eyes so he didn't throw up- and his hand twitched and someone fired, and he didn't realize until afterwards that it was him, that he had accidentally pulled the trigger. Mind reeling, blackness behind his eyelids spinning, he could hear the two invader's disjointed meaningless yells, and as he raised his free hand to cover his ear- pointless, didn't help at all- a strong arm wrested the MK-41 from his grip.

He opened his eyes again, the room stayed still but the two other men didn't, and as he snarled and made a dash at Locke to recover his MK-41, the other guy got in between them- threw a clean right hook that would have impressed him under other circumstances-

-And caught Sawyer clean in the jaw, and the carpeting rushed up to greet him as everything slowly swam black.

((A/N: Error in the last chapter- there should be a few asterisks indicating time passage between "Quarantine was a bitch" and "Sawyer thought that…". FFNET keeps on deleting them for some reason, probably it's my fault but I can't figure it out. Anyway. Just in case you were confused.

-Locked Heart Ami))


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

****

He was sure he had only been out for a couple of seconds, but when he opened his eyes everything changed. It was daytime, for one thing- sunlight hadn't been streaming straight into his eyes, he probably could've slept a while longer.

Glanced around and suddenly the guy's punch wasn't the only thing making his head hurt. What the --? Where the hell was he? It looked like some kind of crude shelter, leaves and ferns lashed to a framework of bamboo, sunlight beaming through the crack. A girl on his other side- small, blonde, nursing a newborn baby. He had never seen her before, didn't miss the opportunity to stare a bit now. Hot mom.

"How you feeling?" Gently; unabashedly Australian. "Jack says you gave him a scare."

Sat up against the wall of the hut, careful not to lean too hard. "I'm enjoyin' the view. Who's Jack? The guy who decked me? I'll have to remember to return the favor."

Her mouth opened slightly- looked a little alarmed. He frowned back. "What's the matter, Kanga? Little Roo been cryin'?"

"You don't remember?" she whispered.

"Don't remember what? I remember the damn Showdown in Quarantine Corral. Probably better for this 'Jack' fella if I didn't."

"What happened on the raft?" she demanded, grabbing his hand. "Michael and Walt and Jin? Where are they? Are they alive? Sawyer?"

"I dunno, did they get Lost?" he snapped. His temples were beginning to ache. "Damn, you looked all Madonna-and-child till you started with the 20 questions. How the hell y'all know my name anyway? Someone slap a sticker on my back?"

She didn't get the chance to reply.

"Claire? Who are you talking to?"

The jackass- no wait, just Jack- ducked through the entranceway into the hut and frowned a proud, responsible, I-am-the-boss frown. Sawyer disliked him immediately.

"We were just talking," she said softly.

Jack crossed the room and knelt at Sawyer's side, ignoring the blade-edged glare that Sawyer was carefully giving him. "How are you feeling?"

"Depends." Rather bitter. "You mean before or after you slugged me out?"

"I mean right now. What was going on back there, Sawyer?"

"Would you people TELL me how y'all know my name?"

Jack and the woman called Claire exchanged a long glance.

"What were you doing in the hatch?"

No point to lying. His head hurt too much to attempt it anyway. "I'm in quarantine."

"For what?"

"For amnesia."

A raised eyebrow. "You don't quarantine amnesia. It's noncontagious."

"Well," Sawyer growled, "I felt like tryin' an experiment!"

"Was that sarcasm?"

Sighed. Guy was brain dead. "What the hell you think?"

"…I see." Something in his eyes that he wasn't saying.

"What about Walt and Michael and Jin?" Broke in Claire.

"Already TOLD you. I don't KNOW them people."

Another long and exclusive glance between the two strangers. Finally, Jack said, "He doesn't remember."

"Yeah, that 's what amnesia IS, dumbass." Glare. Headache getting worse. He looked away, stared at the wall. Confused, scared, but mostly just angry. He had to be careful. This could go wrong. Well, wronger than it already had.

"Kate's all right, by the way." He was writing something in a notebook, pretending he wasn't interested, but the muscles in his neck and shoulders were bunched up and tense. "Just in case you were wondering."

"The hell do I care whether she's all right!" he was relieved, secretly, but he didn't want to admit it to himself and sure as hell wasn't about to admit it to Captain goddamn Marvel.

"Well, I just thought you might-"

"Listen, Round Three." His voice was so hoarse it made the growl nearly inhuman. "Someone comes barging into my home I got a right to defend myself. Now, if she's fine, that's peachy keen, but as far as I'm concerned-" he blinked. What? "As far as I'm concerned-"

**_As far as I'm concerned_**

**_Possession is nine-tenths of the law_**

He closed his eyes. A wave of nausea was beginning to come with these random lines and if this guy knocked him out and then watched him throw up, he'd never get his damn pride back.

"Sawyer?" Jack sounded so selflessly worried that he wanted to punch the guy. "Sawyer? You okay?"

"I'm FINE," he grated, forcing his eyes open. There was a steadying hand on his arm and he nearly removed it by force, then suddenly realized it wasn't Jack's, it was Claire's.

"Thanks, darlin'," he said, patting her hand before she removed it with rolling eyes but a slight smile. "Least someone around here knows how to do a man good."

"What just happened, Sawyer?" Jack asked, watching him close.

"False memory..." he admitted. "They happen a lot. Long as I take my medication I'm okay."

"False memories? Of what?"

He furrowed his brow. His head still hurt. "Of- I dunno. They're weird, okay? Like… I just thought… 'possession is nine-tenths of the law'. Like, what the hell does that mean?..." He had no clue why he was telling all this; but for some reason Jack reminded him of a doctor. And hey, if nothing else, he might get a sympathy lay from Mother Hen on the side.

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law," Claire mused. Her voice made it sweet, harmless. The idea of sentences attacking out of the black void of his memory a little bit less scary.

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law." Jack echoed, and abruptly shattered the rather comforting illusion. "Sounds like something you'd say."

"Well, ain't it great that despite the fact ya knocked me out and kidnapped me, we can still get to know each other." God. This guy was driving him nuts. "An' after just ten minutes. Warms my heart."

Jackass didn't respond, unfortunately. Instead, he seemed to focus. "These… these 'phantom memories'." He said. "I've never heard of anything like that. They're just sentences? Here and there? Or are they more?"

"They're FALSE memories," Sawyer snapped. "And they're usually short. Like a sentence or two. Or a phrase. I mean one time… one time… look, I took my meds and it went away. But one time…."

"What?" whispered Claire. It was all the incentive he needed. Pity lay! Pity lay!

"Well, you're gonna think I'm crazy," he said fast-like. "But one time, it was like… I was on this raft with some black guy and his mini-me and this Korean dude… And it was dark and someone threw a Molotov onto the raft and blew it up, and shot me in the shoulder, and they took the kid and I went after them." He shrugged uncomfortably; they were both staring at him.

Claire broke the silence with a strangled "Oh god."

Not the effect he had hoped for. "They're just nightmares, Kanga," he said awkwardly. "Doc says my mind makes 'em up to explain things I can't remember. And that was the only time it happened. I was reading a book, forgot to take my meds, and I noticed a scar on my shoulder and that came out. Took my meds and it went away. No more nightmares. Easy as pie."

Silence. She didn't look comforted (well, she was looking desperately at Jack; not the most comforting view.) He almost wished that Roo would wake up to break the loaded silence. No such luck- it was Jack. "Sawyer," he said slowly. "What would you do if I told you, as a doctor, that those memories weren't false? That you really were on the raft?"

So he _was_ a doctor. "I'd deck you one and get you back," Sawyer retorted. "So don't."

"But how do you KNOW-"

"Cause I GOT a doctor looking at it, okay!" he snapped, "One who doesn't work in Knothole Village!"

"The Others," Claire whispered.

Sawyer cocked an eyebrow. "You wanna play doctor with someone, Jackass, check up Lady Madonna there. She's talkin' nonsense. Now if you'll excuse me-" he rose to his feet, touching the wall unsteadily for balance- "I'm headin' home."

Jack rose too, blocked his way through the nonexistent door. "You mean the hatch? I don't think that's a good idea, Sawyer."

"Well, congrats. I'll be sure to send you a medal. Now get outta my way." He shoved Jack, who to his surprise not only stood firm but gave _him_ a shove back. Unbalanced Sawyer hit the wall of the hut- his hand ripped right through the leaves and someone outside shrieked in surprise- and it wasn't Kate or Locke. Sawyer's blood went a little cold.

"There's more of- how the hell many are there of you anyway!" he demanded, struggling to get past Jack, who to his pleasure seemed to be having more trouble holding him back.

"Sawyer!" Jack cried to be heard above him, and only then did Sawyer realize he had been yelling. "I want you to go lie down, okay? Sawyer! I need you to go lie down!"

"The HELL do I care what you want?" he demanded, grabbing Jack (who didn't flinch) by the shoulder. "Look, I've enjoyed my little stay in Fern Gully but now I'm going to get my meds. Get-" shove; no go "Get OUTTA my way!"

"You can get whatever you want later! No one's going anywhere right now. Sawyer. Are you listening to me? Sawyer!"

Oh, SNAP.

"Listen, Doc Ock!" He yelled, not caring if the whole damn summer camp could hear him anymore. "You slugged me out, dragged me to Tree Town, gave me the third degree and then decided to play Clockwork Orange, so EXCUSE ME if I'm not feelin' mighty cooperative! You expect me to sit here and take your orders, Cortez? When you won't even tell me how you know my goddamn name? You got another thing coming! Now move your ride to the side or your ass is _grass_!"

"Sawyer, I am NOT moving. You might as well sit down. I'm not done with you yet."

Fear tangled with fury and became something formidable. "You know what, Jackass?" he hissed. "I don't think I care."

With a sudden movement he reached out and grabbed Claire, who screamed- forcing her upright, he wrapped one hand around her slender white neck, eyes locked with Jack's. "Get outta my way, Cortez, or I'll squeeze so hard I make a fist. Baby or no baby."

Claire burst into terrified sobs, and suddenly it was Jack's turn to squirm. Sawyer smiled grimly. There was a second for which neither man did anything. Then Jack shattered the silence, yelling frantically, hoarsely- "CHARLIE! SAYID!"

In only a matter of seconds the two men entered the hut, so damn fast Sawyer wondered if they hadn't been there all along. The taller Arab took one look at what was happening and tackled Sawyer to the ground, ripping his hand from Claire's throat so hard Sawyer thought he felt something crack. Then (as the smaller guy calmed the hysterical Claire, who seemed on the verge of a serious breakdown) Jack and the Arab wrestled Sawyer down, pinning him to the ground despite his best efforts. Ali put one damnably steady knee on his chest, keeping him down, as Jack yelled to the midget "CHARLIE! In my backpack! Get the sedatives!" 'Charlie' evidently didn't jump fast enough because Jack followed it up with a furious "NOW!"

And when the little round bottle of pills appeared in Jack's fist, Sawyer realized just how much danger he was in.

He fought with a new strength- one fueled by terror as well as by rage- but it was two against one and he was already weakened. Sayid straddled his chest, one knee on either arm, and Jack gave him the bottle, yelling above Sawyer's wordless, furious primal roar- "Two! Just two, and if we need more we can use them later!"

Sayid tipped two pills into his palm and Sawyer lashed out desperately with his legs, hitting nothing, then closed his mouth so hard it was painful, gritting his teeth with a vengeance. They'd have to cut a hole in him to get those pills in

-or so he thought, because Jack reached out and grabbed his nose, pinching it shut until he had to open or suffocate, and then Sayid was ready, dropping in the pills and then forcing his mouth closed again before Sawyer could spit them out, and then it was all over.

He realized later, much later, than he could have fought further if he had used his brain- hid the pills under his tongue, for instance, or maybe simply faked some sleep. But exhausted and angry, the idea didn't occur to Sawyer, and there didn't seem to be any option but to swallow, which he did- gasping and panting, choking a little with no water to wash them down.

The drug worked quickly, though Sawyer kept on fighting to the very last, determined to escape even as the room blurred, spinning. But the thrashing, the barely coherent insulting screams, the hate could not postpone the inevitable- and the now-familiar darkness finally closed in, stealing him from himself, blacking out the bright world, until he knew nothing

falling thoughtless

and friendless

into the black hole, exiled from the world, adrift in the void.

**_(Who are the others?)_**

****

((A/N: 230 hits and 4 reviews? That's not cool. Hopefully I'll get a few more this round, if just to yell at me for torturing our favorite Texan. Don't worry, y'all- things go a little more in Sawyer's favor come Chapter 4.

-Locked Heart Ami))


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

****

Immeasurable time after that in a daze.

Looking back, he realized that Jack had been grinding up sleeping pills, putting small doses in his food and water, keeping him tractable. An' he must've been out for some time just by virtue of the fact that he'd gotten meals. At the time though he didn't do much thinking. Certainly not enough to notice how long it was taking those first two pills to wear off, or realize that he always dozed immediately after a meal.

It was damn near impossible to keep track of time. Each catnap seemed onto to last a couple of seconds- but just like when Jack had punched him out, every time he closed his eyes and opened them, everything had changed.

It was like watching a movie, set and characters always changing, each new scene a cliffhanger- except for the fact that they made no sense on their own and added up to a completely incoherent whole.

There was a Korean woman wailing and sobbing as Kate tried to console her. "I can't see this. I'll die if I see Jin like this. Oh Michael- _Michael_!" Closed his eyes. Black.

Some lanky blonde teenager staring at him like he was half freak show.

**_You're in my light, sticks._**

****

****Oh- dammit- no. They couldn't start now- closed his eyes. Black.

Charlie staring at him, his eyes like two burnt holes in a blanket as he said with a startling ferocity, "You touch Claire again- you touch Claire one more time- and I'll make you bloody sorry."

"What are you gonna do, Chuckie? Headbutt my knee?" He managed to mumble before drifting back to sleep. Black.

Opened his eyes. Jack talking to some fat Spaniard about him, not seeming to realize he was awake enough to hear. "I don't know what to _do _at this point. It's like talking to a brick wall. A brick wall that threatens nursing mothers."

"But… they same thing happened with Claire, right? She remembered, dude."

"And what are we supposed to do until he decides to remember, Hurley? We can't keep this up. And he's unpredictable- violent."

"Which is… _completely_ different from the Sawyer we're used to."

Sigh. "You know what I mean."

"Dude, you socked him out, crashed his Hatch Party and drugged him up… like… repeatedly. I'd be violent too."

"The bizarre thing is that he's- he's in perfect physical shape. Better than when he left the island. It took me and Sayid just to hold him down. Given his mental state he should be weak; shaky. But he's not. However confused he is, however disoriented… he's the most dangerous man on this island."

"You said he kept on asking for some drugs, right? Maybe The Others gave him… steroids or something. You know. To beef him up."

"Okay," Jack snapped, "First of all, there ARE NO OTHERS. There's going to be some way of explaining this without resorted to- ghost stories. But about the drugs- you may be right. They're not steroids, his build is the same, but they may enhance strength somehow. If that's true, though, it's just one more reason I don't want Sawyer of all people to have them, especially right now. But without them… I'm almost afraid to face him. He's completely irrational."

"You wanna keep it down, Cortez?" he had grumbled before falling back to sleep, not even realizing the significance of what was said and ignoring the glass of water Jack had quietly placed by his bedside.

((A/N: Hmm, another short one. I considered making this a part of chapter five, but that would make chapter five ridiculously long. Plus I still haven't figured out how to make my asterisk stay in place, so to show time passage I'd have to write TIME PASSAGE! Which would ruin the magic. ;; Chapter Five should be up very shortly, and Chapter Six a little while after that.

Reviewers- thank you for all your kind words and wisdom! I told you all that I love feedback and concrit, and you seem to have taken me to heart. (Yasia! All the way from Russia! Sawyer-love is truly universal. I always knew. ;)

-Locked Heart Ami))


	5. Chapter 5

_((A/N: Check this out! My author's note is at the front of the chapter! Are you all shocked and appalled? Is the world falling down around you? ;; Actually, I was going through previous chapters checking my grammar, and I noticed that the Author's Notes at the end of the chapters totally ruin the mood. It's like… OMG! Sawyer's in the hatch! Sawyer's been punched out! Sawyer's been locked up! Sawyer Sawyer Sawyer oh NOOOO- and then all of a sudden I'm there being all bright and cheery and Ami-like and I snap the mood like a Chistmas cracker. My bad, everyone- maaaajor editing lapse. I'll start putting them in front from now on and let you all bask in post-chapter-ending awe (yeah, I wish) uninterrupted by my feeble ramblings. Still, though, I guess it's possible though that having author's notes in the front of a chapter will be just as bad? Should I dispense of them altogether and just shut up and get on with it? Your opinions are good here. _

_Similarly I'll stop whining for reviews since I now have a whole bunch and am proud and moderately content. What can I say? I'm just an attention whore at heart. There's no pressure here- I love feedback, but I also simply love writing, so don't think I'm doing this just for the flattery. That said, I'd like to thank everyone once again for their concrit and kind words. Much Lost love to you all._

_Kisses, Locked Heart Ami))_

****

**Chapter 5**

When he woke again mysterious hours later, his head was inexplicably much clearer- though his limbs were still heavy, slow responding to commands.

With an effort far greater than it should have been, Sawyer raised his head, looked around. Same room, lying on the sand floor, but now on an improvised bed of foliage and leaves- which meant, he realized, that at some point he'd been so conked out that they were able to pick him up and actually move him. Not a comforting thought.

Not alone, either- big surprise. Jack and Sayid and Locke and Kate (damn, when had they gotten to a first-name basis?) were there with him, locked in an incredibly quiet argument of the kind you have around a sleeping man. How considerate. He would've stayed quiet, listened in, but suddenly out of nowhere-

**_FLASH Do you have to be here?_**

****

-And against his will he groaned, pressing his aching head into the cool ferns below it. He startled them, to his satisfaction- Kate actually jumped.

"You're awake," said Jack.

"Hell of a doctor, ain't ya?" He retorted, then, glancing at Kate- "Keep two feet on the ground, sugar, I ain't done nothing yet." She made a soft scoffing sound, rolling her eyes. Sawyer frowned, shortchanged- that wasn't even contempt!

Jack was coming towards him, kneeling at his side, clasping his hands with such a look of selfless concern that Sawyer wanted to kick him. Such damn philanthropy for such a home-invading amnesiac-puncher. That was one score Sawyer wouldn't forget to settle.

"Feeling better?"

"A damn sight better'n I did on your room service," Sawyer replied, nodding at the untouched glass of water. Jack colored, confirming what Sawyer had until then thought were kinda far-flung suspicions. His eyes narrowed as he persisted to Kate, "He always that persistent with his prescriptions, Freckles?" She set her lovely mouth, turned away. So- he was right.

Sayid approaching now, and Sawyer tensed in spite of himself, trying to struggle into a sitting position and only then discovering that his hands were tied. (Well, of course his damn hands were tied. What had he expected, some semblance of hospitality?) He managed it but only with difficulty, and he cursed himself for being so obvious as the Arab said "Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. Tell me- who do you think I am?"

Hurt him? He'd like to see Aladdin even try it in a fair fight. "I dunno. The Al-Qaeda poster boy?" Sayid's look darkened to a smoldering glare and Sawyer pressed his luck, continuing, "Then this must be the Taliban beach villa. I'm a hostage, huh? Tell me. Am I gonna get to star in my very own snuff film?"

"That's disgusting, Sawyer," Kate snapped, and Sayid moved back to the opposite side of the hut, not that he could put much distance between them- guy could hardly stand up straight.

"Why hell, sugar, I happen to agree with you. But if I'm to assume that your answer's gonna be no, that leads me to the real question which is- for the hundredth time- who the _hell_ are you people?"

Silence. They looked at each other, at him, at the walls. But nobody said anything. He fought anxiety, frustration, as he nodded at Locke. "You're a quiet man, ain't ya? They're always the honest ones. You tell me."

Locke regarded him for a few seconds, mouth set, eyes inscrutable. Then; "We're your friends, Sawyer."

Sawyer's turn to gape; finally collecting himself enough to scoff "My friends, huh? Sure got a funny way of showing it. 'Specially Cortez there."

"_Why _do you keep calling me that?" Jack snapped.

"Cortez," Sawyer drawled. "You gotta have been to college, doc. Sure ya ain't heard of him? Invaded Mexico? Took heaps of prisoners? Acted like a general _jackass?_" he raised an eyebrow.

Jack looked troubled. "You aren't a prisoner, Sawyer."

Sawyer looked around, taking in the hut, the drink, the rope binding his hands. "Know you're right, buddy," he said sarcastically. "I've just been havin' so much damn fun playin' along that I kinda forgot." Pause. Then added, more quietly- "I'm not _that _dangerous. You didn't have to drug me. Hell, you definitely didn't have to tie me up."

"You threatened a nursing mother."

Sawyer bit his lip. He hadn't wanted to call his own bluff, but if it was his only chance at freedom… "I wouldn't actually have hurt her." He admitted. "Hell, lady had a baby. I wanted out and she was handy. That's all."

Jack looked at him steadily, testing him with his eyes. Sawyer resisted the temptation to drop his own gaze. "What proof do we have that that's true, Sawyer?" he said finally, not lookin' even half convinced.

Sawyer paused. Actually thought about it. "You got my word of honor," he said finally, and couldn't believe it when nobody moved. "What?" he challenged angrily, speaking a good deal louder than he had to to be heard. "Ain't that good enough for ya!"

"What proof do we have that your word _is _any good?"

"What proof do you have that it's _not_?"

"I… well, none that you can remember, I guess," Jack admitted. Pause. "I… don't know."

"You've got to trust him sometime, Jack," said Locke. "You can choose to do it now, by mutual choice- or when the rope breaks and the pills run out. Personally, I'd choose to do it on both your terms rather than neither. We should be saving those pills anyway, using them for medical emergencies, not enforced bed rest."

"THANK you," Sawyer growled at Locke, and hid as best he could the fact that he was desperately waiting for Jack's reaction.

It came only after a long and doubtful pause. "If we untie you," he said reluctantly and with no reference at all to the sedatives, "We're going to have to lay down some ground rules."

"Shoot."

"All right. First of all- no violence. I don't care whether you're threatening to strangle Claire or- or just leaving banana peels around for Hurley. Got it?"

"I dunno, doc," he said sarcastically. "You know what they say about us Neanderthals. We just can't curb our vicious impulses."

"I'm not joking, Sawyer. Do you understand?"

"_Yes,_" he snapped. "Yes. I understand. No stealin' lunch money. Is that it?"

"No way. You- you have to listen to what we have to say. You keep asking who we are, where we took you… when we answer those questions, you have to promise to at least think about the answers."

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Now how the hell are you gonna know whether I'm doin' that or not?"

"I've got your word of honor," Jack said evenly, as their eyes locked. "I'm going to trust you. Will you do it?"

No other way around. "Fine, Thought Police. I'll do it."

"Okay," said Jack. "In that same vein- you've got to answer questions put to you. No matter what they are."

Sawyer stared. "Don't ya think that's a little- private?"

Jack shrugged.

"Look, Captain Jack, I can't just jump when you say jump. I wouldn't if I could, and I can't. I'm in the army. I'm not allowed ta give you any more than name, rank and serial number."

"The army?" Jack looked stunned.

"Yeah." Said Sawyer. "In a matter of speakin', I'm in the army. The _army._Perhaps you've heard of them? Tall? Dog tags? Carry guns? What, you didn't think I got that MK-41 at a souvenir shop, did ya?"

"Look," said Jack, "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. But if we can't reach an agreement…."

Locke intervened again, much to Sawyer's relief. "How about," he said to Jack, "He has to ask any question put to him, except for those he has expressly been told not to answer by a commanding officer."

"Okay," said Jack.

"And no questions about sex," Sawyer added, feeling a little cocky over the compromise. "No business in the bedrooms of the nation, doc."

"All RIGHT!" Said Jack. "Any questions except specified secrets and… things of an… explicitly personal nature. Okay?"

"Fine by me," Sawyer said with a smile.

"Good." Said Jack. "And lastly, you can't run away. We untie you, you gotta stay here. That's all."

Sawyer couldn't speak for a few seconds, and when he managed it, it was a growl. "I gotta stay here? I can't leave?" He still couldn't believe his ears. "What the hell kinda condition is that?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? I mean, if I untie-"

"How the hell can you set a rule like that an' still claim I'm not a prisoner, Cortez?"

To his surprise Jack looked really hurt, closed his eyes for a second before replying. "Look. Think you're a prisoner if you want," he said finally, his voice hard. "I'm not debating this one. If I untie you you're staying here. Which'll it be? Yes or no?"

Sawyer closed his eyes, resting his aching head in one hand. "Yes," he muttered, trying to hide the defeat in his voice. "Yes. Okay? You got me, Captain Jack. I'm an inmate. Yes." A sigh. "All right?"

He kept his eyes closed, and the long black silence pounded in his ears.

Then Jack broke it with words both a blessing and a curse. "Okay. Kate, would you?-"

Sawyer heard a metallic click, then a soft sawing sound, feeling the smooth-silk feel of Kate's hands on his rough damp ones. He opened his eyes just in time to see the thin cord snap under her penknife.

Lifted his bowed head to look into her face- and she was looking back at him- and Sawyer felt something deep and electric stir within him, something utterly alien to their time and place. Kate parted her lips slightly as though to say something, but nothing came out. Finally Jack cleared his throat and she flinched, stepping back quickly, closing the penknife with a snap.

"There you go. Free." Jack- briskly. He had noticed whatever had juts happened between Kate and Sawyer and, to Sawyer's pleasure, obviously disapproved.

"Free enough to actually walk around the Gulag," Sawyer retored, chafing the ciriculation back into his starved wrists. Very unsteadily he stood up, the top of his head brushing the ceiling. "You drive a damn hard bargain, Cortez."

Kate was not looking at anybody, fleeing through the door. "Hey- Freckles!" he called. "Freckles! Wait."

She stopped and turned to face him, something strangely tormented in her expression. He beckoned her a little closer, painfully aware that all eyes in the prison-hut were on them.

"Look," he muttered awkwardly, trying very hard to keep his voice low enough to prevent the others from hearing, knowing there wasn't a chance he would succeed. "Would- would ya do me a favor?"

"What do you want, Sawyer?"

**_What do you want, Sawyer?_**

****

****It was worse because he had been distracted and he nearly lost balance completely, closing his eyes and suddenly ill. No one reached out to help him and he doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees, praying not to throw up, praying, praying.

At length the false memory passed and he straightened up, casting a glare over his shoulder at Jack. "Thanks for the help, Jackass."

Jack shrugged. Sawyer turned back to Kate. He was humiliated, but he still had to ask. "Look… my meds. They're still in the hatch. Now if I'm not supposed to leave, I can't exactly get those, and I really, really need them. Would you?..."

"What?" she said, brow furrowed. "You want me to go get them? Is that what you're asking?"

He swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I'm askin'."

Kate regarded him with those unreadable dark eyes while he stared mutely back, his thoughts one silent plea.

"Sawyer…" She said slowly, and, recognizing her tone as one of refusal, he panicked.

"Freckles- please! You don't understand. I NEED those meds. They're my only chance. I mean- you don't understand. You really don't. Without that stuff- I can hardly hear myself think. They're starting to wear off and it's hell, I mean damn, you saw me just now." He burned with silent shame, hadn't wanted to point it out, but if she could just see…. "And my doc says- says if I don't take them I'm runnin' the risk of never getting my memories back. Not ever. Cuttin' myself off for good. An' I couldn't live like that, Freckles. I'd- I'd die. You got no idea what this is like. Not even old friends to visit in the middle of the night. Please don't take that hope away from me. You can't- take those things away from me-"

He broke off, wrestling with emotion. Kate was staring at him as though she had never seen him before. Desperately he reached out, grabbed her arms. She flinched- tensed- but didn't pull away.

"Please." He whispered. "Please. Freckles- _Kate_. You got no idea how dark and lonely it is in here."

A long, crystalline silence that Sawyer thought would kill him. Then-

"I'll get them," Sayid broke in, and left Sawyer limp with relief. "Your medications- where are they?"

"They're in a cupboard." Sawyer replied, letting go of Kate's arms. "Beside the storeroom, above a counter. There's a bunch of medications and one of those… shooter-things. Can't miss."

"Sayid-" said Jack, doubtfully- "I'm really- not sure this a good idea."

There was a second's loaded silence between the two men, a significant pause that Sawyer could not guess the meaning of.

"Then it is lucky," Sayid said at length, firm and a little bit cold. "That in _my _case, _you _do not make the rules." He glanced around the hut, nodded at the others, then stalked out.

Sawyer whistled into his wake, feeling supremely grateful. "Got to hand it to Abdul, doc. Guy knows how to make an exit."

"Yeah, well, I just hope you appreciate what he's doing," Jack snapped back before he could collect himself- then continued in a more measured tone, "Well. You've been in here almost a day. You want to go outside?"

"A day?" Sawyer snorted. "Why HELL yes, Javert, I'd like to stretch my legs if that's fine by you."

"Someone should probably warn you," Locke said suddenly, walking towards the exit- then turning back. "Not everyone's thrilled about what happened to Claire- Charlie in particular. So I'd watch my step if I were you."

"No worries, pal," Sawyer said sarcastically. "If I see the little guy I'll call the Hobbit Police right away." Locke laughed- Kate ducked her head to hide a smile, and even Jack looked a little amused. "Now that's settled," he added, "Should we run through the rest of my pest-control problem list, or d'you mind if I try to air out the last of this headache?"

"Be my guest," Jack said, indicating the much-coveted doorway, and smirking slightly Sawyer stepped out of the hospital hut and onto the soft sand, closing his eyes and letting sunlight and freedom stream across his bruised face.

****


	6. Chapter 6

_(A/N: Chapter Six! I can't believe it! This is only shorter than Token Of Love- and Token has 50 of the reviews Loss of Me does. I'm so grateful. Thank you! Chapter five got some great concrit. I'm not sure whether it's proper author form, but I'd like to address those issues so they don't interfere with anyone's enjoyment._

_First of all- the whole Romance thing.__ There was some disappointment with Sawyer/Kate in Chapter 5. I'd like to say right here and now that LOM is an adventure fic. Any relationships that arise will be arbitrary. That said, I have to acknowledge relationships which already exist- and there is canon chemistry between Kate and Sawyer that I can't deny. It doesn't mean that I'll focus on romantic pairings any more than in passing. …But I'm still not telling you who Kate ends up with! (has hypocrisy up the yinyang)_

_Secondly, a discrepancy between the way Claire was treated as an amnesiac, and the way Sawyer is being treated, was pointed out. I can definitely see where people are coming from with that because y'all quite right- they ARE treating Sawyer differently. But the circumstances are also very different. Claire they found roaming through the jungle pathetically- Sawyer turned out to be in the Hatch! Claire whimpered and fainted- Sawyer knocked Kate out and threatened to shoot Jack and Locke. Sawyer's had opportunities to probe and ask questions- and, because he's the Sawyer we all know and love, he's shot them down. Lastly, the relationship between Jack and Sawyer and the relationship between Jack and Claire are very different. There are old grudges and animosities between Jack and Sawyer that don't exist with Claire._

_Maybe this doesn't totally explain everyone's questions. I guess in the end, it all comes down to your opinion of what would happen. This is just one way to imagine things - yours might be very different. By the way, I've been checking some of the fics of the people who are signed in- y'all are very good! I'm flattered to be getting such great reviews._

_-Locked Heart Ami))_

**Chapter 6**

****

"You're letting him _go? _Are you a bunch of bloody nutters!"

Smiled in the most cocky and condescending way he knew how, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. "That's right, Chuckie, I'm on parole. An' I just can't wait to get to know you all."

"Jack- what are you playing at- this guy's a looney!" Charlie looked nearly beside himself with fury.

"Sure you're not just paranoid, hawse? I don't see no one but you here tryin' to keep me locked up." Wasn't entirely true, though. Despite the fact that only Charlie was directly confronting him, Sawyer noticed ht many others had conveniently found work nearby, and all seemed to have started their coffee breaks just as old hell-and-hurtin' Charlie had started shooting his mouth off.

"Sawyer has the right to come and go as he pleases, Charlie," Jack said firmly. "He's still a part of this camp."

"Part of the camp? Oh, I wouldn't go that far. I always say you're only as much a part of a camp as you're there by your own free will," Sawyer drawled, appreciating the fact that the line seemed to have completely bewildered Charlie. "But I appreciate the sentiments, Jackie boy. I'll be sure to make myself at home." Surveyed the beaches outside the hut. Shelters everywhere, made evidently with whatever could be found- branches, tarps, castoff clothing. "It all looks mighty… cosy."

"You better watch yourself," Charlie said fiercely, though with a little less sureness. "I've got an eye on you!"

"Well then," Sawyer replied with an ingratiating smile, "I'll be sure to conduct my lower half well."

"Watch yourself," Charlie repeated in a low voice as he walked away, casting several suspicious glances back over his shoulder.

"What's his problem?" Sawyer said, watching him go. "He afraid I'm gonna follow him?"

"He's got a… bit of a thing for Claire," Locke replied.

"Well THANK you, Dear Abby. I think I kind of noticed that without any outside help."

"He's just trying to look after her," Locke replied calmly. "Still, going around talking like that… not good for morale. Someone should probably talk to him."

"I'll go," Kate said immediately, and took off towards the forest through which Charlie had escaped. Sawyer fought the pointless urge to call her back, followed her with his eyes- and suddenly noticed Claire sitting at the forest's edge. She was nursing the baby, watching them- and when she noticed Sawyer looking back she stood up quickly, vanishing as well.

He sighed, feeling vaguely hollow- turned to listen to Jack, who had begun to speak.

"We usually eat, uh, about when it gets dark," Jack said, looking not at him but off in the direction Kate had gone. Were they?... "Locke hunts boar for food mostly, but there's fruit as well…."

"Whoa, hold on a minute." Sawyer said. "I'm not expectin' room and board here. Besides, wild pig ain't exactly my idea of fine French dining."

"Then what do you propose?" Jack snapped, turning to face him.

"Not Pumbaa au gratin," he retorted. Yeah, take your greedy eyes off Kate. "If you're going through my stuff anyway, why not rape the storeroom? I've got provisions for- two months, at least. Ain't first class cuisine but hey… beats the hell out of _boar._"

"Sayid's probably still in the hatch," said Locke. "If I leave now I can catch him before he starts heading back here- see what we can bring back together. Thanks, Sawyer."

"An' then there were two," Sawyer noted as Locke made his exit. "These shelters… what happened to you people? Were you all-

**_You all, everybody!_**

**_You all, everybody!_**

**_Actin_****_' like you're STUPID PEOPLE wearing EXPENSIVE CLOTHES!_**

****

-At least make SENSE!" he yowled in frustration, pressing his palms hard to his temples. Jack watched him with no expression, just one significantly raised eyebrow, and Sawyer lowered his hands, finishing with as much dignity as he could, "What I was GOIN' to say was- were you all- in some kind of… accident or somethin'?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Jack replied, looking out over the huts. "We were in a plane crash… these are the survivors. It's been almost two months now."

"A plane crash?" he said skeptically. "And I've been thinkin' that you were some kind of experimental military corps or… hippie cult or something."

_"Hippie cult_? Why's _that_?"

"Well, you're recruitin', ain't ya?" Sawyer snorted, throwing his arms wide. "Guess you really thought I was your man."

Jack laughed. "Not exactly. Actually, you were a passenger on the-"

"-The hell I was, doc." Pause. "Look, as much as I'd LOVE to stand here watching the sunset with you…."

"Huh? Oh, right." Jack cleared his throat slightly. "So what are you planning to do now? If you want me to reintroduce you to people or something…."

"Thanks but no thanks, Welcome Wagon. Maybe some other time." He gave the camp another once-over. Looked mighty cramped. "Think I might just do a little exploring, if you don't object. Scope out the Gulag."

Jack didn't take the bait, and Sawyer's estimation of him went up slightly as he casually said, "Go ahead if that's what you want, but… I mean… there's not exactly much down here on the beach. A day and Rome… you know."

Critically speaking, Jack was right. 'Bout the camp that is- wasn't much to it. But… this wasn't ALL there was… was it? He just had this- weird feeling-… "Yeah, I guess." He said slowly. "I dunno. It's just-

**_I'm not the only one wondering_**

**_where you're going to weigh in _**

**_on_****_ this whole moving-off-the-beach thing._**

****

**_Are you going?_**

****

**_We all pack up stakes for the caves and next day a plane passes by,_**

**_they're_****_ gonna go on their merry way none the wiser._**

****

****

"Are there more of you somewhere? Maybe in caves?" he asked sharply, all in a rush. He had meant to sound casual but the rush of false memories made him a little dizzy and he was embarrassed to ask Jack at all. The doc had said if he wanted these to go away he had to ignore them….

"Y-yes! Yeah!" Jack replied. He looked very surprised- and a little- hopeful? Somehow? "Yeah there are! Do you-"

"-No!" Sawyer said without even knowing what Jack was going to say- began shaking his head vigorously, then stopped as he realized it made the post-flash vertigo hundreds of times worse. "No. Definitely not."

"But I mean-" Jack said. "If you remember the caves-"

"Don't remember nothing, doctor," He said firmly, in what he hoped was either finality or an air of rampant condescension. "Okay?"

"Then how did you know about the caves?"

"There's like ten of you here!" He exclaimed, trying to act like it was obvious, turn away his own unsureness. "Pretty damn small plane, I'd say."

"But the caves-"

"There are always caves on uninhabited jungle islands. Hell, Jackie, don't you watch TV?"

"Haven't really gotten around to it recently," Jack said wryly. "We haven't attempted building anything more sophisticated than a golf course."

"A golf course?" Sawyer laughed in spite of himself. "A doctor playing-

**_-Golf? Now I've heard everything.  
What's next? _**

**_A cop eating a donut?_******

****

**_FLASH_**

****

**_You trying to be funny?_******

****

**_You bet._**

****

**_FLASH_**

****

**_You're sensitive to the light?_**

****

**_Ya_****_ know what, I'm sensitive to YOU._**

****

**_FLASH!_**

****

"Sawyer? Are you OK!"

Color to black and back to color and suddenly he was inches from the ground, on all fours, dizzied, disoriented. He blinked in confusion and no little amount of worry. What the hell? He had actually blacked out for a couple of seconds. That had never happened before. The phantom memories were annoying but that- that was kind of dangerous.

"Sawyer? You- you can hear me- right?"

"Too damn right," he grunted. Slowly standing up. "Y'ever think people don't answer you because maybe they don't like you?"

"Always a possibility. But shunning people doesn't usually involve a state of nervous collapse. Are you-"

"YES." He snapped. "I'm okay, I'm fine, and even if I wasn't, doc, I wouldn't go to YOU because-

**_My insurance ran out a long time ago._**

****

****He grabbed a tree in preparation, but nothing happened except the usual wave of nausea, leaving him feeling a little foolish and a lot confused.

"Uh, on second thought…." he said slowly, feeling very unsettled, "Maybe I won't go explorin' til later. Think I'll just… go find myself somewhere to take a rest or somethin'. Get some ice for that punch."

"I think that's probably a good idea," Jack said. "Are you sure you don't want-"

"YES. No. I'm sure. I'm sure. See ya round, Doc."

And he began to walk slowly away from Jack, lightheaded, leaning on trees for support and feeling about as far from sure as a man could.


	7. Chapter 7

_(A/N: Hello hello! Sorry about the long wait, everyone. I've been very busy lately with some original stuff, and I neglected Loss of Me a little bit- my bad! I'll warn you all before I do it again. ; ) There were a lot of reviews asking if Loss of Me is going to be Skate or "have any skate". What's skate? Polar bears aside, I seriously doubt anyone's going to be doing any skating._

_-Locked Heart Ami)_

****

****

**Chapter 7**

**FLASH**

****

**_Baby, I'm tied to a tree in a jungle of mystery._**

Shut up.

****

**_I don't buy it. The act. You try too hard, Sawyer._**

Shut up.

**_  
And WHY am I getting the evening news from a six-year-old?_**

Oh, shut up, shut up, shut UP. He pressed the damp T-shirt to his aching head, trying to block out even the dim light of the caves, groaning in frustration, and was quickly jerked to reality when somebody gasped back. He quickly pulled the wet cloth off his eyes, sitting up, and his heart jumped a little when he saw it was Claire, staring at him as if he was the ghost and not the haunted one.

"S-sorry," she said, starting backwards and holding Roo a little closer to her chest protectively. "I- ah- I didn't know you were- didn't realize it was you. I'll come back later."

"No," he blurted out, raising his hands quickly, they're empty, you're safe. He wasn't sure how Claire would react, but he didn't want to go around terrifying her with the mere fact of his existence. "No, it's okay. Please- it's all right."

"It- ah- kinda looks like you want some privacy," she said evasively, shifting her weight and looking anxious to be gone.

"Why would I go to the waterin' hole if I wanted privacy?" he said lightly. "Hell, I was just lookin' for somewhere to ease up this headache. Couldn't find the hot springs so I had to make due here."

She smiled weakly, not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm not sure you'll be finding hot springs any time soon. I mean, if you do, let me know." There was a brief pause. "I, ah, was just getting some water," Claire finally said, and Sawyer politely ignored the fact that there wasn't much else to do at the waterfall. "I won't bother you long. Kinda need more than everyone else. Just, ah, you know… Aaron…."

"That's his name? Your boy?"

A smile that didn't touch her eyes flickered across her face as she slowly knelt by the spring and filled a mason jar, her wary gaze never leaving his. "Yeah, Aaron. Well, Charlie calls him Turniphead, sometimes."

"Truly unfettered artistic creativity," Sawyer replied. "He the father? Charlie?"

The still-lingering smile froze and vanished. "Ah, no, not exactly. I was on the plane alone. His father and I- really, ah, aren't-"

"Sorry. Touchy subject. None of mine." Damn, couldn't get much more foot-in-mouth than that. "Only asking because, uh, I-" he cleared his throat- "I wanted to apologize. For what happened before."

She watched him.

"I'd never have actually hurt you. I mean- yeah, I was mad-" hell, was still mad "But I draw a line. I wouldn't've hurt a kid and I'd never've hurt YOU. I- just wanted you to know that. And, uh, say sorry. Sorry."

She seemed to weigh him with her eyes, turn him, test him. Then-

"Must've been pretty scary," she said softly. "I guess it all- happened pretty fast."

"Well, there weren't any coffee breaks," he replied, smiling slightly, very hopeful that he was making some headway. "Coulda used one. I got a helluva headache."

"You're still- wow. That's a pretty bad headache. Is that why you're here? With… ah…."

"Nah, I just happen to enjoy going around with a T-shirt over my head. It's a hobby."

She laughed and this time her eyes lit up as well. She looked about to- but no, eyes darted back towards the shelters. "Well, ah, if you've got a headache I don't want to bother you. I mean…" she looked down at Roo. Turniphead. Aaron. "He's not always this quiet."

"No worries, Kanga," he assured her quickly, moving over slightly on the rock seat he had taken by the waterfall- making room. "You're a distraction." Pause. She didn't look convinced. "Hell, I feel loads better now. You got the voice of an angel."

He grinned as she laughed, surprised and pleased and, watching her face, he decided to press his luck. "C'mon, Gabriel," he said, patting the rock beside him. "Stick around a while."

She hesitated- glanced at Aaron- then her look changed and she slowly picked her way around the pool, towards him. She looked skittish as she sat down, a little tense, but she relaxed as they talked and Sawyer found himself admiring the playful, compassionate spirit that showed through her shell.

"Didn't think Charlie coulda been the father. You'd have to be a brave woman to introduce THAT to your gene pool."

"Nah, I only met Charlie here- you know, when the plane crashed. He was… really nice to me. I… I, ah, I lost my memory too," she said softly. "When The Others took me. Jack and the others found me and I didn't even remember any of them."

"Whoa, whoa," Sawyer said, every fibre suddenly tensed and alert, and trying not to show it in his voice. "Slow down. What happened? What happened to you?"

Claire shifted her grip on Aaron, who was beginning to wake up. She looked down, away- as reluctant to tell the story as Sawyer was eager to hear it.

"There are more people on this island," she said softly. "We call them The Others. We don't know who they are or why they're here but- they- they actually, ah, kidnapped me at one point." Let out a nervous little giggle. "But… ah… they let me go, I guess- my memory's still not too clear on that point- and Jack and Charlie found me, and I didn't remember anything. Not after what happened on the plane."

Sawyer stared. So that was why they were keeping here- they thought he was one of these "Others"? But- no- that wasn't it, Jack had said- what had Jack said? It just- it didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense. "Yeah, there are other people on the island." He said slowly. Dharma- hell, he should know, they'd put him into quarantine. "But I- I don't think they know you all're here."

"Oh, they know that we're here," Claire snorted. "I'm living proof of that."

With an effort he held his tongue. He'd come back to that later. He backtracked instead. "But your amnesia. It just… disappeared? Your memories came back on their own?"

"Well, Jack and Charlie helped me," Claire said. "I really wasn't sure what was what at first and they kind of filled me in. I mean really- aside from the… uh… well- I was really a bit like you."

And as he looked into Claire's friendly and smiling face, something inside him went cold, just a little. Any way he figured this it didn't make a lick of sense. Claire'd lost her memory too. Had she been an unlucky soldier, like him? Had Jack and his camp brainwashed her somehow? But no, that was impossible, he'd seen their camp, they really had crashed. But they were saying that he had, too. But he couldn't be- he worked for Dharma. But… but…

"But… Claire," Awkwardly. "Are you sure… uh…."

And then little Aaron woke up and prevented him from asking whatever he had intended to ask (and even he wasn't sure what that was.) Claire frowned, bouncing the squalling infant, trying to calm him down. Finally she turned to Sawyer. "Hey, would you say something? Your voice, ah, usually helps."

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Kanga. I'm no good with kids."

-And to his amazement he realized the child was quieting. "Keep going!" Claire urged. "Say something, say anything!"

**_All right._****_ I like that thing a lot better inside than I do outside!_**

****

"I feel sick," he blurted out, and Aaron cooed and went to sleep.

"Too bad," said Claire with a smile. "But thanks for your help."

"Uh… Claire. How did you know that…."

She smiled wider, but instead of answering the question- "You know, Sun could help you with that headache."

"She the Korean chick? What, is she mining aspirin?"

"No. She's got a garden."

"Don't think eucalyptus is going to help much in my case," Sawyer said. "Sayid's getting my medication. I'll be fine. Anyway, it's only half the headache- the false memories are the real bother."

Her expression struggled and settled into something he couldn't recognize. "That's what the medication does? Blocks memory?"

"It blocks the FALSE memories. Keeps 'em out of the way," Sawyer corrected. "Supposed to help the real ones come back, too, but that hasn't happened yet." He looked away from Claire's clear gaze, unnerved. "Hell, Kanga, don't look at me like that. We can't all remember everythin' on our own."

"I wasn't on my own!" Claire said. "I had Jack and Charlie. Oh- and this." She dug in her pocket and pulled out a shiny white object.

"What's that?"

"A quartz crystal. Don't laugh!" She said indignantly as Sawyer started to, unable to help himself. "I had it in my bag, in my luggage. With my astrology things and my incense and all my other crystals. They were supposed to- ensure a safe flight," she finished, and unwillingly began to laugh herself.

"Don't tell me you're one of those fluffy new-age chicks," Sawyer managed, chuckling. "I mean- the travel-safety thing didn't exactly work, did it?"

"No," she admitted. "But white quartz is for memory and clarity and purification- and I've got my memory back, don't I? So they must work a bit. Hey, here." She held the quartz out in an offering hand. Sawyer looked at it, unconvinced. "C'mon, take it. Maybe it'll help you."

"Maybe it'll turn my skin green." Sawyer retorted. "I really don't see how a rock could help me."

"Sawyer… uh… Sawyer." She said firmly, ignoring her lame beginning. "This desert island contains polar bears and Virgin Mary statues and hatches with you inside of them. Strange things happen here. And I- I escaped kidnappers, acted as live bait and delivered my own baby on a deserted tropical paradise. Give me a little credit to know what I'm talking about."

Pause. The crystal glittered, sparkled. Then-

"Fine," he said grudgingly, grabbing the crystal out of Claire's hand. She grinned mischievously and he waved his arm in protest. "Now, not because I believe it, and not because I'm hopin' it'll work. But I'll take it 'cause you want me to."

"You're welcome," she said a bit smugly, snuggling Aaron closer.

"…And the name's James," he said.

"What?"

"My name," he repeated, a mystified shiver going through him. "You don't have to call me Sawyer Sawyer. It's James. And I…" he swallowed, ecstatic, terrified, hardly daring to believe that. This memory wasn't false. He didn't know how he knew that but he did, as surely as he knew anything right then. "I didn't know that ten minutes ago."

Claire smiled. "See? It's working already."

"Yeah, well…" he shoved the crystal into his pocket, feeling suddenly surly. "Considerin' just how much I got ta remember, my first name probably ain't the most important thing."

"They come back weirdly," Claire said, matter-of-fact. "The first thing I remembered was peanut butter. Pregnant women… you know."

"So you really had that kid here? On this island?" She nodded, and he felt inadvertent amazement. "Holy hell, Kanga, you're straight off a TV show. How'd you manage that?"

"Well, I'm not sure any mother knows how she managed to squeeze something the size of a watermelon out an opening the size of a lemon," she replied with astonishing frankness, smiling fondly at Aaron. "But I guess I did it somehow."

"Guess you did," Sawyer agreed, feeling a bit awed. "You're gonna be one hell of a mother. Even if you are into all that new-age crap."

"Are you a Sagittarius?" Claire shot at him, and he felt amazed all over again. She smiled. "Thought so. I'll do your chart someday. You act like you're straight off the page, James."

"Sawyer," he said, seizing desperately upon something he understood. "I just go by Sawyer."

"I have returned," declared a voice from the woods and out came Sayid, lugging a backpack full of Stuff.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He couldn't remember the guy's name, or how he knew him, but Sawyer remembered – somewhere along the line – knowing an addict, a heroine junkie. He'd been a nice enough guy; a friend, even, when he'd had a fix, when he was feeling good. But, sooner or later, this guy always started to get edgy – checking his watch, shifting his weight, tapping a compulsive percussive rhythm onto the table as he longed to trip the light. And then you'd have to watch how you acted, what you said, because one wrong word or move and the guy was off to find a fix and he'd just leave you sitting there without even saying goodbye.

Sawyer had always been mildly disgusted, that kind of eagerness, hadn't understood how anything, any substance, could make you blow your top like that. But just then – looking up, and seeing Sayid with the backpack, and knowing what had to be inside – he suddenly got it, the desperation, the need. The desperate drive to make the buzzing go away.

The enemies inside your own head. _Am I going crazy?_

He made some rushed and bullshit excuse to Claire and scrambled to Sayid, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. _Am I going crazy? _He hoped that he was joking.

"I have your medications," Sayid said, when Sawyer was close.

"Yeah," Sawyer panted. "Yeah. That's what I figured." He glanced back over his shoulder at Clare, suddenly ashamed. "Look – uh – could we? –"

"Of course," Sayid said. They distanced themselves, Sawyer making sure that Claire – and any other survivors – were well out of sight before he and Sayid stopped some way into the woods. Then Sayid crouched and began rifling through the bag. Sawyer clenched and unclenched his sweaty hands. Finally the Arab straightened with a vial of the fluid and the hydrosyringe. "This is it?"

"Yeah," Sawyer breathed, and snatched them from Sayid's hands. Almost feverishly, he shoved the canister of medication into the hydrosyringe's barrel, shoved the gun against his arm, and pulled the trigger.

Closed his eyes. Blessed slow cold pain spread from his bicep and he exhaled slowly, letting his hand drop, limp with the relief of a new chance. After a second, he opened his eyes and found that Sayid was looking intently at him with an expression Sawyer didn't quite like. "What?" he growled, feeling remarkably ungrateful.

"Nothing," said Sayid. He paused. "That drug. Is it addictive?"

"Nah."

"You seemed extremely eager for a new dose."

"Well, sorry if I'm a little too jumpy for your liking. There's the whole fact that it's gonna bring my memories back, you know?" Dripping sarcasm.

"Sawyer – "

"Look, Ali," Sawyer snapped. "You brought my stuff back, and I'm grateful for that. But I ain't in the mood to play twenty questions. Got it?"

Sayid quiet – the silence tightwound, tense. Then –

"Got it," he replied, though it clearly cost him something.

"Well… good," Sawyer said a little lamely, feeling his fraying nerves stitch up as the drug coursed through his veins. He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly. Vindicated.

"Would you like to come with me for a walk," Sayid said. Maybe it was a National Guard thing, but it didn't really sound like a question.

"Excuse me?"

"Would you like to go for a walk," Sayid said again, clearly. "Perhaps it would clear your head."

"Why, Sayid Sahib," Sawyer said, rising to his feet and grinning a winner grin, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"What?"

"'Cause before you strain yourself any further, I must inform you that I am straight."

Nothing but a blank stare for a second. Then suddenly Sayid understood and launched into a stream of angry and horrified Iraqi.

"Guess not," Sawyer shrugged. "Hey, I was just askin'. Shall we go?"

Sayid, still looking visited by murderous intent, set off down the path, Sawyer behind him. "So," Sawyer said casually. "What did you grab from the hatch?"

Sayid took a deep breath, let it out hard, and said evenly – appearing to have quelled the rest of his anger – "Food. Toiletries. Not things of much consequence, I hope." He glanced over his shoulder. "I didn't want to rob you."

"Hell, I said you could take it," Sawyer replied. "You people need this stuff hell of a lot more than I do. How you gonna divide it up?" He suddenly recognized the path they were on; the route from the caves to the beach.

"I haven't decided yet. I suppose I'll just give something to everybody." Sayid paused. "What is the timer for?"

Sawyer tensed, which was a little strange, for he hadn't meant to keep it a secret. "Say that again?"

"There is a timer down there, on the wall. Counting down, hour by hour, to zero. What is it for?"

"It's just to keep me on schedule with my meds," Sawyer said defensively – not knowing why he was defensive. He hadn't meant to make it a secret. "I gotta take 'em a minimum of every hundred and eight hours. It counts down for me."

"Every hundred and eight hours? Strange schedule for medication, isn't it?"

"I guess," Sawyer said doubtfully. "I take 'em more often than that – like, every four or eight hours. Around fifteen or sixteen, I start feelin'… I get sick."

"I see. Tell me, what happens if the time on the timer elapses without being reset?"

"I'm not exactly trying to find out," Sawyer snapped.

"So you don't know?"

"I have an idea," he replied. "The memories I've managed to get back –" well, would be getting back – "Probably start to deteriorate again. Disappear."

"So you don't know."

"No," he admitted finally, "I don't."

Long silence as Sawyer looked at the ground. Then Sayid – "Hello, Jack."

What the f—snapped his head up and realized just where Sayid's little 'walk' had taken them. "Dammit," he muttered sullenly, as Jack, emerging from his cave, observed them both with some surprise.

"You're back already?"

"Indeed," replied Sayid. "I've brought back a number of things from the hatch which I believe may prove quite beneficial to us. Now, I recall that you wanted to talk to Sawyer, so I thought I'd just sort through it in the meantime and give some things out…."

"Uh, yeah," said Jack. "Sounds fine."

"Sayid –" Sawyer blurted, as the Iraqi began to walk away.

"Hm?"

"Did you – was there any peanut butter down there? That you brought with you?"

"I took a jar from the storeroom. Why?"

"Could you give that to Kanga?" Sayid raised an eyebrow. "I mean – Claire?"

"Claire?" a surprised pause. "Well… yes, of course. But if you don't mind my asking, why would you…"

"If you don't mind ME asking, would you just DO it?"

Sayid's usual cold politeness set in. "Of course." He walked away; Jack and Sawyer watched him until he disappeared.

Sawyer was the first to break the silence. "If you wanted to talk to me that badly, you could have come an' found me yourself, doc. Didn't have to have me dragged back here by Baghdad Bob the Builder."

"I didn't tell Sawyer to go get you," Jack replied shortly. "You went staggering off holding your head into a bush. I sent him to make sure you were all right."

Sure he did. "While I appreciate the house call, doc, I do believe I heard Abdul saying 'Sawyer as ordered'," Sawyer drawled. "'Fearless Leader'… or whatever they call you around here."

"Well, I said I wanted to talk to you eventually," Jack said. "Actually, now that you're here, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to just – check in."

"And if I don't feel like it?"

"Look, it's your choice. But I strongly advise that you do."

Sawyer sighed. Might as well get used to it. Sounded like he was going to be here for a while. "Fine. You got ten minutes." Checkup time.


End file.
